


The Beauty of the North

by Lils_White



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dany is a disaster bi, F/F, Fix-It of Sorts, If D&D couldn't write something coherent then I will, Platonic Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:40:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22424224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lils_White/pseuds/Lils_White
Summary: "Love is overrated.""That is a very sad statement."The fire queen and the ice princess have a conversation in Winterfell.
Relationships: Sansa Stark/Daenerys Targaryen
Kudos: 60





	The Beauty of the North

**Author's Note:**

> About the moment this story takes place... Let's see, I think reading it gives away most of the context, but I'm going to clarify it just in case:  
> 1\. Dany has already conquered almost all Westeros; she attacked King's Landing before going north to fight the Others.  
> 2\. Stannis died fighting the Others; but before that he managed to recover Winterfell and find Rickon. He placed Rickon as Lord of Winterfell to gain support from the Northerners (but he died shortly after. I'm sorry, Stannis; it was necessary but I love you).  
> 3\. After his resurrection, Jon left the Night's Watch and went to Winterfell to support Rickon. Once Stannis died, he was sent to talk to Queen Daenerys and swear her the loyalty of the North in exchange for her help against the Others.  
> 4\. Sansa and Littlefinger were in the Valley making their plans for world domination when they heard the news of Rickon and went to Winterfell with the support of the Valley. Sansa has become the Regent of Winterfell while Rickon is a minor, and Littlefinger is still there although his health is getting worse.  
> 5\. Bran and Arya are still missing and therefore taken for dead.  
> 6\. Tyrion is the Hand of Daenerys.  
> Enjoy!

The north was as cold and hard as they had warned her.

Dany, who was used to broad plains of land and soft mounds of long grass, to the smell of sweat and the hot sun on her skin, found the icy landscape terribly bleak. She was careful not to show it, however. Her alliance with the North was delicate, being kind; and insecure, being frank. She couldn’t afford being ungrateful to her reluctant guests, so she did well to keep her opinions about their snowy landscapes and the loneliness she found in them to herself.

Dany looked out over one of the large balconies of Winterfell, watching the courtyard where Jon exchanged opinions with the younger soldiers. She suppressed a smile when she saw him so serious and focused; he seemed so much older when he talked about battle and strategy than when he shared stories of his childhood with her.

Jon seemed to perceive her gaze, because he turned and gave a sullen nod in acknowledgment. Dany inclined hers to return the greeting. It was curious; they always seemed to feel the presence of the other since they had met and decided to join forces. They had connected almost immediately, despite their different personalities and responsibilities. Their connection was so strong that Tyrion had been unnecessarily concerned about the growing relationship between the two.

_ He's just jealous. _ Dany was not stupid, although sometimes it was convenient to pretend to be. She knew what Tyrion wanted, and it wasn't the same as Jon wanted.

It was a different connection to the one she had shared with her sun and stars, or with the fearsome mercenary Daario Naharis. What she had with Jon was delicate and fraternal, as if she had finally found the brother Viserys should have been.

_ If this alliance fails, I will not only lose the North. I will lose him too. _

Dany had lost too many things before setting foot in Westeros, she didn't want to lose more.

However, she only found discouragement in the faces of the notherners: they were all afraid of her. Dany knew the legends that accompanied her weren’t always flattering, and that she had committed enough atrocities to gain their fear.

_ I only did what was necessary. I am a dragon and dragons plant no trees. Dragons take what is theirs with fire and blood, and that is what I did. _

She suppressed a shiver when the memory assaulted her: the cries and screams of the people in King's Landing after she attacked with her dragons and unconsciously lit the Valyrian fire that was hidden in the city, making it explode. Her hands trembled on the railing.

_ If I look back I am lost. _

"Your Grace?"

Dany was a little startled by being so abruptly removed from her thoughts, but she appreciated the distraction. Sansa, Jon's sister, was behind her blood riders looking at her with huge blue eyes.

_ She doesn't look anything like Jon. _

"Sansa" she greeted her with a smile.

The girl returned it with courtesy; she was really beautiful, the hair the same color of the autumn leaves and an elegant and well-defined profile.

"I was wondering if you would mind the company."

"Not at all." Dany nodded for the blood of her blood to let her close, and the young woman picked up her blue dress to approach and stand beside her, facing the courtyard. "Although you don't need to ask, I will always be delighted to spend a moment with the Lady of Winterfell, given how generous you have been with us."

Sansa lowered her head slightly to watch her carefully; she was much taller, despite being younger.

"Thank you, Your Grace. Although the Lord of Winterfell is Rickon, I only help him until he’s old enough."

Rickon, the little one of the Starks and the only one apart from Sansa who had survived. More wolf than child, more wild than noble. He only listened to Sansa because he confused her with their dead mother.

"I didn't mean to suggest otherwise" Dany said, conciliatory. “But you act as regent instead, after all Rickon is too small".  _ And too unstable _ . "In the most practical sense, you are the Lady of Winterfell."

"I suppose so" Sansa admitted with an adorable laugh; a slight blush rose to her cheeks. "I still have a hard time getting used to that treatment, to being here again. To be... to be Sansa Stark again."

She looked around the snow-covered facades again, and there was so much love and affection in her expression that Dany almost felt bad for not being able to understand her. For her, it was just cold and white.

_ This is her house with the red door. This is her home. _

The smile Dany gave her was genuine.

"I'm glad you were able to recover it. That you have achieved justice for your family. Jon may not be a Stark in name, but he loves this place and he loved your father and brothers as much as you do, I'm sure."

Sansa's gaze became inquiring.

"I have noticed that you two have become very close" she commented softly, with curious eyes. Dany didn't erase her smile, encouraging her to continue. "And I'm glad Jon found someone to trust, although I'm worried a little about the repercussions..."

Dany's laugh rang like bells over the snowy rooftops, and she could feel the gaze of the men in the courtyard on them.

"Your Grace?" Sansa looked adorably confused at her outburst. "Forgive me if I have made impertinent accusations..."

Dany shook his head, and the bells of her hair —proof of her many battles won— clinked with her.

"Don't worry, you're not the first to reach those conclusions." The image of the dwarf came suddenly to her mind, with the stump of nose and disparate eyes, sketching a horrible smile and whispering in her ear that King's Landing deserved to burn to the ground.

A chill ran down her spine. It did not make sense; Tyrion was her Hand, he had advised her to attack without knowledge of the Valyrian fire still left in the city. She had nothing to fear.

_ I am the blood of the dragon. The blood of the dragon is not afraid of anything. _

"Then your relationship...?"

Another smile curved Dany's lips, pulling her out of her grim thoughts.

"It's purely platonic. Jon is a very dear friend, but I would never pursued that kind of relationship with him. After all, a queen cannot marry a bastard."

She regretted her words the moment they crossed her lips, but it was too late. Tyrion's gloomy and sudden vision had distracted her from the present conversation, making her be more honest than she intended.

Sansa didn't seem offended, fortunately; although she was very good at hiding her emotions under a layer of courtesy.

"And assuming the many things you've heard about me, I can assure you that I wouldn't take him as a lover either" Dany continued, in an attempt to fix her slip. "I appreciate his friendship too much for it."

Sansa's expression was thoughtful.

"Not enough to turn it into love, though."

Dany sighed, peering into the courtyard to watch again the man they were talking about, giving instructions on how to hold the sword to the newbies.

"Love is overrated."

"That is a very sad statement."

"Do you think so?"

Sansa looked out too, standing so close that Dany could feel her heat through all the layers of clothing.

"Do you know why all the songs speak of love, honor and loyalty? Why the protagonist are brave knights and beautiful maidens, and justice always triumphs in them?" Sansa took a pause, and Dany forgot about Jon and concentrated on her. "Because that is what we want for us, what we aspire to achieve in our lives. We all want love, honor, and a happy ending. The songs tell the stories we want to live, show the characters we want to be.

When I was little, I used to dream of living in one of those songs. Reality, unfortunately, is rarely so virtuous. Perhaps that is why it may seem that we overestimate love or honor, because we find that they do not fit our expectations. They go wrong, or they hurt." Sansa's eyes were looking far away, almost dreamly; Dany couldn't stop looking at her. "But precisely because of that, because the world is not like songs, that we should try to be more like them. If the world doesn't value love, loyalty or honor, we should do it. That way, at least, we can be a bit like the songs. That way, maybe, we can change the world."

A pair of snowflakes fell on Sansa's hair and gave her an ethereal air. Dany felt overwhelmed by her beauty; the red hair and the dark dress stood out over the whiteness that reigned in Winterfell.

The spell was broken when Sansa turned to give her an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry, I think I've let myself go a little."

"No" Dany said firmly, "it is a beautiful thought, I wish more people saw the world with those eyes."

_ Although I appreciate not everyone has them so beautiful that it’s hard to think when they look at you. _

"Have I convinced you that love is not overrated, then?"

"Of course, though I fear that your brother isn’t my candidate for it yet."

"A pity. For a moment I had thought that you would follow in the footsteps of your ancestor Alysanne and take a taste for the north."

"Oh, the north has many charms, no doubt," Dany lied lightly. "But I'm afraid I'm a woman made for warmer climates."

Sansa's smile tilted slightly to the right, naughty.

"Maybe you still haven't found a good way to get warm and resist our weather. As a northerner myself, I wouldn't mind showing you our methods."

Sansa stared into her eyes as she spoke, and Dany was left petrified. She couldn't be wrong, that was a clear insinuation; Sansa leaned her long neck toward her, with blue eyes full of promises.

Dany felt her mouth go dry.

But Sansa had straightened and erased her smile before the queen had time to react. She gave her a bow and an apologetic look.

"I'm afraid I have to finish looking at accounts with the butler, Your Grace, but it has been a most inspiring conversation. I would love to retake it when you consider it appropriate."

Dany remained still, speechless. Sansa's eyes shone with amusement.

"Will you allow me to retire, Your Grace?"

She forced herself out of her stupor.

"Of course, though I take your word to continue our conversation later."

Sansa walked down the hall into the castle, her hair shining like a lava waterfall. And Dany began to think that maybe it was true there was something really beautiful in the north.

She couldn't know that Sansa was going to meet a man with a pointed beard and cunning eyes in order to assure him that the plan was going well. Or that the same man thought he had everything under control, oblivious at the fact that Sansa had been poisoning his meals for months. Nor could she know that another small man, but with a long shadow, watched all her movements, waiting for the right moment to whisper  _ Fire and Blood _ in the ear of his disturbed queen.

She couldn't know, but she felt it in her bones. Dany had never been stupid or naive. She breathed in the quietness of the air, determined to ignore all the possible machinations and betrayals for a single afternoon.

No matter what they plotted, anyway. Her destiny was even further north, and she had little time left.

_ To go north, you must journey south. To reach the west, you must go east. To go forward you must go back, and to touch the light you must pass beneath the shadow. _

Almost there.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a translation of my fic Precaución y deseo: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22076638 in Spanish. English isn't my first language, and this is the first time I've tried writing something that isn't in Spanish, so all the constructive criticism is appreciated, just be kind about it!


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